


Cola

by YoursTruly (Lyscey)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Banter, Cunnilingus, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Songfic, Tony Stark isn't really an asshole he just plays one on TV, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4582740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyscey/pseuds/YoursTruly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“C’mon, Cap. She’s got a body like the soda bottles you and your buddies used to buy from the machines at the corner store."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cola

**Author's Note:**

> "My pussy tastes like Pepsi Cola" is one of the best lyrics ever written and Darcy Lewis loves Lana Del Ray. No one can dissuade me from these notions.

Tony clears his throat pointedly. He grunts and sputters, and eventually manages to choke out, “Cap. Steve! Help!”

That finally snaps Steve out of the trance he’s been in watching Darcy’s hips sway back and forth on the elliptical machine across the gym. “Shit! Sorry.” He grabs the center of the weight bar with one hand and jerks it up into it’s cradle, to Tony sigh of relief.

“Is it too much to ask for you to pay attention when you’re supposed to be keeping me from yoking myself? What were you-- Oh. Nevermind, you’re forgiven. Holy shit.” Tony’s sitting up on the bench and following Steve’s line of sight over to Darcy as she continues to tread away on one of the big machines that face the windows; totally oblivious of them with her earbuds in and looking out at the beautiful view of Central Park from this floor. She’s wearing black yoga pants with little cassette tapes on them, what looks like two sports bras, and nothing else.

Tony looks back over to Steve, catching his eye and grinning like a kid in a candy shop. He knows he’s turning pink even as he rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Tony.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“It’s preemptive. I don’t want to hear it.”

“You don’t wanna hear about how that elliptical machine is the main reason the nip in her waist and the muscles in her thighs make her ass look like a heart?” Tony asks, as if that’s a perfectly normal thing to say, tilting his head slowly to the right like he can see the resemblance better from that angle.

“Jesus, Tony,” Steve sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “Does Pepper know you talk like that?”

He outright laughs at that. “Don’t you worry, Boy Scout. Pep’s heard a lot worse from men a lot better than me. Besides, every man looks. Nothing wrong with looking if you have a healthy respect for boundaries. Speaking of which, you gonna stare all afternoon or go talk to her?”

“Neither. I’m gonna shower, watch the game Jarvis recorded for me last week, and go to bed early.”

The look of horror on Tony’s face would be funny if it weren’t so insulting. “Good God, man. I know you’re pushing 100 these days, but you do still have a pulse, right? Darcy’s probably going out. I’m sure she’d love to show you a good time.”

“Of course she’s going out, she’s 26. Doesn’t mean she’s interested in showing me anything,” Steve says, grabbing a towel from the wall rack and tossing it, a little more forcefully than necessary, at Tony's chest.

“Are you kidding? Have you seen yourself lately? She and all her dorm mates probably have Captain America posters on their bedroom walls. Not only do you still look like a boy band leader at 90-something, you're a war hero with a global good-guy reputation. Most women would feel it's their patriotic duty to climb you like a flag pole."

Steve narrows his eyes. "And that's what you think of Darcy, huh?"

Tony tries for scandalized, but only manages to look even more churlish. "Young miss Lewis is a fine girl: quick, witty, bright as a penny. I'm very pleased with her work ethic and how she handles her shit. Her glorious body is hers to do with as she wishes and I try not to pry into her business. I'm not judging her, here. I'm judging you. She's available, you’re _you_ , and you are doing every female attracted person in this building a disservice if you do not _hit that_.”

"This conversation is becoming inappropriate," Steve says, on the verge of genuine annoyance.

"I know you're not trying to tell me you've never even thought about it."

Of course he's thought about it. He was thinking about it five minutes ago. He'll think about it again later, but not until he's alone and he certainly won't tell Tony Stark about it. It's one thing to enjoy winding him up and trying to make him blush, it's quite another to do it at Darcy's expense. His answer is a disapproving arched eyebrow.

“C’mon, Cap. She’s got a body like the soda bottles you and your buddies used to buy from the machines at the corner store. I’d bet the original Mark II that pussy tastes just like Pepsi Cola.”

From any other man, Steve would start knocking out teeth for that. As it is, he puts some considerable authority in his voice, flexes his shoulders and simply says, “ _enough_.”

Tony holds up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying: if I was ten years younger…” he sighs, looking wistfully in Darcy’s direction.

“She’d still call you ‘Tin Man’ and answer your phone ‘Tony Stark’s Island of Misfit Laboratory Experiments'?"

He grins. “Don’t tell her, but I actually kinda like that one.”

 ****~*~

Steve tries to just forget about his conversation with Tony. He really wants to, but it's not easy to let an idea like that go once it's in a man's head. Tony isn't helping. Steve has to excuse himself from breakfast two days later, right in front of Darcy and Dr. Foster, when Stark (never one to miss an opportunity to make things worse) walks in wearing a vintage ‘Pepsi’ tee-shirt. Steve's going to strangle him. Or he would, if he could keep his hands out of his own shorts. The whole crew has some welcome, but unfortunately timed for him, R&R. That means he's got plenty of opportunity to remember the last time he knew what a woman tasted like, and just how long it's really been.

Part of him knows Tony's right. These days he could go out and pick up a girl without even really trying. There's no reason for him to be both hard up and staring after Darcy Lewis like a green private at a pin up. Another, better part of him knows it's not appropriate. It was one thing for him to take up with Peggy like he did; the fortunes of war, super hormones, and undeniable chemistry making him impulsive. Besides, there was something to be said for her distinguished career, her authority and dignity. She understood his duty the same way she knew hers. She respected it because she was living it too. Maybe it would have become something beyond the bright flare of passion if he'd come back from Russia when he was supposed to. No way to know now.

Darcy though... Darcy is a civilian. Even if she was interested in a relic like Captain America, his lifestyle could never be fair to her. Unpredictable schedule, so much time apart, the worry he’d cause her through it all… What girl would want that? How could he even ask it of her?

Those are the thoughts running on a loop in his head as he beats the stuffing out of a heavy bag in the open-floor gymnasium. He barely notices when the door at the other end of the room opens to admit two people. His rhythm only falters for a second as he realizes it’s Darcy and Dr. Foster, dressed in leggings and tank tops, each carrying a rolled up blanket and mat. They lay them out side by side and stand on them facing each other. Steve can’t hear what they’re murmuring back and forth over the sound of his fists hitting leather, but they keep glancing over at him, Dr. Foster looking more and more uncertain. Finally, Darcy huffs and lets out a two part whistle, high and shrill, like a bird call.

Steve finishes his combination, then looks over t o them, breathing hard and wiping the sweat from his brow. “Dr. Foster, Miss Lewis. Am I disturbing you?”

Darcy smiles at him. “I was just gonna ask you the same thing, Cap. Don’t stop on our account, you were here first. Jane and I can go somewhere else if you’d rather be alone.”

He almost tells her ‘yeah, that would be for the best’, but can’t quite bring himself to. She lives and works here, too. He’s going to have to get over this eventually, may as well start now. “Not at all. You won’t bother me.”

“Great! Thanks soldier,” she says, grinning and throwing him a little salute.

Steve clenches his jaw and nods, turning back to the bag. He hears Darcy ask Jane ‘sun?’ Jane says something about needing balance more than flexibility, and suggests ‘moon’, whatever that means. Apparently they’re in agreement because they square up and start flowing slowly through a series of poses.

Rolling his shoulders and neck, he cracks his knuckles before he starts pounding the bag again. He starts out light, jab combinations and some agility work, trying to keep a steady pace while still watching the two of them out of the corner of his eye.

It’s only a few minutes before Dr. Foster’s phone starts beeping. She winces as she picks it up, muttering to herself and apologizing to Darcy on her way out the door. Darcy sighs but shrugs and recenters herself on the mat. She starts a new series, different from the one before and at an even slower pace. Her mouth hangs open to take in long, deep breaths as she rolls her joints and stretches lavishly through every transition.

It’s almost like a dance, Steve thinks, as he starts to lose track of his own footwork. He’s watching Darcy more and paying attention to what he’s doing less the longer she goes on. The curve of her spine as she brings her chest up off the mat, braced on her arms and arching backward to tip her face toward the ceiling, is the most delicate and beautiful thing he’s ever seen. She holds the pose for a few breaths and Steve’s dimly aware that his knuckles are really starting to hurt. Eventually, she rolls back down to the floor, changes the positioning of her wrists, and he watches her shoulders flex and shift under her skin as she pushes her lower body up and back. He’d be embarrassed to admit it, but he knows what this pose is called; only because he’s overheard a few off-color jokes around the building about Darcy’s ample hips and the unfortunately named ‘downward-facing dog’. ** **  
****

There’s a tearing sound as pain vibrates briefly up his arm. Startled, he stops and catches the bag on the backswing. It’s lopsided, one of it’s chain-holds broken and sand pouring freely from a large tear in the seam on the side. He’s really got to stop doing that.

“Whoa.”

Steve turns Darcy, who’s standing now, hands on her hips and looking impressed.

“Nice hit there, Ali. Those things must feel like sledgehammers,” she says, gesturing to his taped hands.

Steve cringes a little. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “I didn’t mean to… You shouldn’t have had to see that.” He hopes he hasn’t frightened her.

Darcy laughs. “Are you kidding?! Tony said Fury told him one time you knocked a bag clear off its chains and across the room! I’m honored to have witnessed a feat of strength by the great Captain America. I wanted to clap, but I didn’t think you’d like it.”

He’s not really sure what to do with that. “I guess I should…” he begins, glancing at the door. “I don’t have another bag.”

“Oh! I’m sorry! Facilities is part of my job. I should have asked you how many of those things you plow through in a month. I’ll order you some new ones. Do you need one for tomorrow?”

Steve stares at the light sheen of sweat on the plane of her chest and the delicate musculature of her neck and thinks he’ll definitely need to hit something again tomorrow. Really, he wasn’t done _now_. “Yeah. I’d appreciate it.”

“Okay! I have to go out and get some normal person stuff later anyway. I’ll go to a local store and arrange for one to be delivered in the morning.”

“Thanks,” he replies, shuffling his feet.

“I’m gonna finish up here. This is my only break between managing Tony’s personal obligations and all the equipment and supply deliveries I have to supervise in the afternoon. I need some quiet time away from that man every day or I’d snap and _choke_ him with my bare hands,” she warns, complete with miming.

That startles a laugh out of him. He quickly chokes it off and covers his mouth loosely with his hand but she’s grinning at him and he can’t help but smile back.

“You like yoga, Cap? You could join me. Jane left her mat when she ditched me for science.”

“I’ve never tried it before. And call me Steve.”

“That’s okay. I can show you. Then maybe tomorrow you can show me how to punch a hundred pound heavy bag into rags. Steve.”

Steve clenches and unclenches his fists a few times, trying to get the tingly feeling out of his fingers. He wasn’t prepared for this. He sees Darcy around plenty, but he hadn’t ever thought to be alone with her. Or that she’d flirt with him. She is flirting, right? This feels like flirting. Awkward flirting, but that seems to be her default state.

“Or we could just get out of here for an hour or so. There’s a diner around the corner. That’s what you guys did in the forties, right? Stick two straws in a bottle of soda?”

Well, that answers that. He holds himself back for another second, watching her eyebrow glide up toward her hairline and the totally unsubtle tapping of her bare foot while she waits for him to answer.

For the first time in quite a while, Steve says the first thing that comes to his mind: “Fuck it.”

“Are you even allowed to-” Darcy starts, but he closes the distance between them in a few long, quick strides and cuts her off with his hands in her hair and his mouth on hers. He doesn’t even try for finesse, and once he’s got his hands on her he can’t be tentative, he just licks into her mouth and stays there. She kisses back with enthusiasm and a series of high pitched ‘mmm’s he takes as encouragement. After a few moments, they pull apart a little to gulp air.

“So,” she says, panting, “how about that soda? Maybe in my rooms?”

Even he’s surprised by the pained noise he makes. “Can’t wait.”

“I don’t have a condom. I wasn’t exactly planning to get my bones jumped by a national icon in the gym today.”

Steve hums. “Don’t need one for what I’m planning.” He glides his hands down her neck onto her arms, then guides them around his neck, encouraging her to hold on. She yelps when he grabs the backs of her thighs and lifts her up against his body, but catches on quickly, giggling as she wraps her legs around his waist. “Jarvis, privacy please.” ** ** ** ** **  
**********

“Yes, Captain Rogers,” the AI responds, and he can hear the locks click softly into place.

He carries her to the nearest wall, presses her back against it, and murmurs, “stand up.”

Darcy loosens her hold and slides down with his help. Just as her feet hit the floor Steve drops to his knees. It doesn’t take much to peel her leggings off, then gently lift one ankle until he can slip them off over her foot. He holds her steady by the hip while he pulls that leg up over his shoulder.

“I love a man with a plan,” she sighs, and threads the fingers of one hand into his hair.

Steve presses his face into her hip crease and laughs. “No Captain America references while I’m going down on you. You know my name. Use it.”

 

Looking down at him, glasses slipping halfway down her nose and soft lips kiss-swollen, she’s so wanton and beautiful he swears he stops breathing. She smirks, tightens her grip on his hair, and tells him, “make me.”

He strokes his hand up the back of her bent knee leg until he can curve his thumb around her thigh and use it to open her more. He’s been fantasizing about this moment for a week (and Darcy in general for much longer, if he’s honest), filled with guilty anticipation and tension. Now that he has the opportunity he’s relaxed, almost relieved, and he can’t wait to get his mouth on her. He briefly considers asking what she likes, but decides he’d rather just explore. If she has any complaints, he’s sure she won’t be shy about letting him know.

Steve starts off with a long, luxurious swipe of his flat tongue over her, just to get the taste familiar in his mouth, and God, it’s even better than he’d remembered. He does it again to see how she’ll react. Her shoulders arch up from the wall and the hand not in his hair flies up to grasp at the front of her tank top. The thick muscles of her hips and thighs twitch under his fingers, trying hard to buck into his mouth. He applies more pressure with his tongue and she melts, letting his hands and shoulder take more of her weight. So, that’s how she likes it.

He lets himself squeeze, pressing the pads of his fingers into her flesh, and gives her what she likes: firm, almost rough strokes of his tongue, pressing with the bridge of his nose or pulling at flesh trapped between his lips, and long, languid sucks on her clitoris. She responds like she’s being shocked, eyes rolled back and absolutely still under his onslaught.

 

Steve, on the other hand, feels like he may melt. The heat coming off of her is almost overwhelming, making him feel a little light headed. No; drunk. It’s been years since he could even get a buzz going because of the serum, but he remembers what drunk feels like and this is it. The pleasure of her taste, and scent, and low, breathy moans has him feeling lust-drunk. It’s easily the best thing he’s felt since he woke up.

Darcy’s starting to shake. Steve can hear her above him, babbling “yes, yes, yes” and becoming less steady with each iteration. He runs his hand up from her hip, under her shirt, to the narrow valley her sternum makes between her breasts, and presses her into the wall even harder. She comes with a spasm and a gasped, awed, “ _Steve!_ ”

With her braced like that, he’s free to snake his other hand down into his own sweat pants. He’s so hard, so turned on just from tasting her and making her come, all it takes is a few quick swipes over the head of his dick to set him off. He groans, loudly, right up against her vulva.

Darcy tugs on his hair so hard he can’t help but go with the motion and stare up at her astonished face.

“Did you just jerk off while you were eating me out?”

He raises his eyebrows and grins at her. “Was I not supposed to?”

“That is unfairly sexy. Do you realize that? It is literally unfair to the rest of us how sexy you are.”

“I’ll try to restrain myself in the future,” he teases, kissing the inside of her thigh as it continues to tremble on his shoulder.

“Don’t you dare, Steve Rogers. Not when I _just_ got my hands on you.” 

~*~

One afternoon, Tony Stark walks into the little reception room/office outside his robotics lab and finds a 6” action figure sitting on his desk. It’s a limited edition he commissioned a few years ago in the lead up to Stark Expo: an exact replica of his Mark II Iron Man armour, pieced together from aluminum plates and hand painted in red and gold. If you press the arc reactor, it glows blue.

He stares for a solid minute, no idea where it could have come from, before shrugging and calling for Jarvis to let him in.

 

**Author's Note:**

> call-me-yt.tumblr.com


End file.
